Capes and Quills- a collection of tales

  During her travels through the desert, the Traveler quickly became wary of scorpions. Nasty little creatures with venomous stingers, they’d penetrate her cloak and kill her in an instant. She couldn’t rush, but she had to avoid danger. The blazing sun burned through her cloak, obscuring her vision and turning her hands a bright, painful red. The only sounds were the wind and the rustles it created in the sand- until she heard someone speaking. Moving toward the sound, she found a pair of fellow travelers riding on camels, who immediately noticed how weak she looked and handed her some extra food and water. Lifting her onto one of their camels, the husband and wife decided to tell a story to pass the time, since the young girl would be with them until they managed to cross the relatively short desert. The wife turned to her as she gulped down the water, smiling, and told her the tale of ‘the Mermaid’s One Love’. ‘Years ago, there was a beautiful mermaid living in a shining palace ...

  Heading toward a new area under the cover of night, the Traveler walked down the forest path, before hearing a strange sound. Someone was crying. Nervous, she wondered if it was a trick, but it sounded genuine enough that she decided to see if there was anything she could do. Stooped down, surrounded by white lilies, was a man, hands over his face as he sobbed in pure despair. Quietly approaching, the Traveler sat next to him, the man being a little embarrassed to find someone watching him cry, but something told him this girl wouldn’t tell. Staring at her through his teary eyes, he deduced she was no older than sixteen, if even that, around the same age as his daughter had been. The thought of her memory caused more tears to fall, the Traveler using a serviette ‘Ma’ had given her to wipe his tears. His stomach grumbled- he hadn’t eaten in days, so the girl offered him her food, the two sitting as he tried to eat even despite his tears. “M-May I tell you about my daughter?” He as...

  The Traveler walked down the stairs toward the dining room, freshly washed and re-dressed in her same old cloak and the few bits of clothing underneath. She’d tried to wash herself as thoroughly as possible, if only to remove the sins of others from her body. Though it was futile, it at least made her feel a little better. She walked through to the sitting room, noticing the head of the home, affectionately named ‘Ma’, and two little boys in her care who were sitting by the mantlepiece, playing with some red and blue toy soldiers. They didn’t look old, and reminded her of her own family. She stared down at them as they played, ‘Ma’ giving her a smile and offering her to sit. One of the boys suddenly swore at the other, pretending to be a soldier, to which the woman immediately reprimanded them. “Hey, you little rascal, you’re not allowed to say those words!” She spoke, the two boys ceasing their game and the culprit looking up at her apologetically. “Sorry ma, I was just playin’!...

  The Traveler wandered through the woods, finding herself in a tiny town with a single tavern. It was pretty busy inside, despite its remote location, so there was a good chance she’d find a story in there somewhere. Entering, she tried not to be knocked over by the people drinking and dancing, all of them looking as if the best day of their lives was upon them. She couldn’t help but slightly envy their joy. A waitress suddenly approached her. “It’s you! Everyone, she’s finally here!” she called out, taking the Traveler’s arm and leading her to the middle of the crowd. Immediately uncomfortable to have so many eyes on her, she tried to escape, but the woman’s grip was far too firm. “We’ve been waiting ages. What took you so long?” she asked, the Traveler staring at her and using her other hand to keep her hood from slipping off. “What…do you mean?” she asked, her heart practically bursting due to how overwhelmed she felt. The waitress led her toward a corner, where a lone person s...

  Arriving in a new place, the Traveler looked around. It seemed as if nobody was really about. She took a moment to breathe, before her ears picked up on the sounds of children’s voices nearby. Curious but wary, she went to investigate and found a large group of children gathered nearby, all yelling and kicking at something. But as soon as one of them saw her, they scarpered, believing her to be an adult who would tell them off. Drawing closer to whatever they were abusing, she involuntarily gasped when she realized. A young girl, probably around seven or eight, with wooden legs. They were bullying her. Instantly, the Traveler checked the child for injuries, silent as usual but tender and slow with her movements, so as not to scare the girl. It was something she’d picked up from both her parents and Sara. Gently, she brushed back a hair from the girl’s face, who stared up at her, as if in disbelief that anybody would bother to help her. The Traveler remembered the soft cloth Saraf...

  The Traveler reached a new town, one much bigger than the previous ones she’d visited. Finding herself by a well, she stopped for a moment to take a rest, dipping her hands into the cool water and washing her face. She probably looked awful, considering she’d been avoiding sleep since that awful nightmare, but getting clean wouldn’t hurt. Washing her hands, she imagined she was wiping the sinful touches of others away, and felt her heart relax a little in her chest. Clean hands, clean mind. She checked her sleeve- the bruises were finally fading. Writing had become significantly easier too, as long as she wasn’t panicking. Taking a deep breath, she suddenly heard a crash and turned. A boy had tripped over a nearby bucket and skinned his knee, but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he looked incredibly depressed. Nobody moved to help him, so the Traveler approached, offering her hand. The boy accepted and stood with her help, the Traveler leading him over to the well and cleaning hi...

  Wandering through the pine forest, the Traveler came across a strange man dressed in full black, silently sitting and smoking on a rock. Without warning, he turned to face her. “I’ve heard of you. The girl who looks for the stories.” he asked, the Traveler’s heart pounding. Who could have told him? Maybe one of the townsfolk she’d previously encountered? Or worse, someone closer to her? The man chuckled slightly, putting his pipe to his lips and taking a moment to smoke as the Traveler felt her anxieties twisting like vines. Finally, he gave a small smirk, answering her unspoken question. “A fisherman I met told me of you. How you illustrate beautifully and your exquisite calligraphy, but more than that, how mysterious you are.” he spoke, the Traveler putting a hand on her sword underneath her cloak, just in case it was necessary to defend herself. “I wonder what secrets lie under that hood…?” the man pondered, before noticing how tense she’d become and laughing to himself. “Rela...

  The Traveler and Sarafelle walked down the mountain path, finally getting closer to the other side of the familiar pine forest. They approached a giant wooden windmill, spotting a man hauling several bags of grain toward it. The two rushed to help, despite being physically weaker than the retired soldier. Grateful, the man introduced himself, before his gaze drifted upwards as a crow flew over the snowy trees. Raising an eyebrow, the man mumbled to himself. “Reminds me of…” he trailed off, both girls staring at him in confusion. The Traveler sensed that perhaps he had a story to tell, and stepped forward. “Tell me.” she spoke, her voice unusually blunt. The man looked up at her. “It’s not a nice story, young one…” he sighed, “but if you insist…” He took a deep breath and watched the crow land nearby, as if it too was listening, and frowned slightly, telling the tale of ‘The Boy and the Crow’.  ‘Around thirty years ago, before you were born, there was a village far away to th...

  The Traveler awoke to find herself in a field. She was surrounded by white chrysanthemums, which seemed to almost…glow. In her daze, she sat up, looking around. Where was Sarafelle? She hadn’t left her here, had she? The Traveler felt betrayal creep into her thoughts. Standing, she walked through the seemingly endless array of flowers, only stopping when she finally came to something. Before her, a large iron gate, practically covered in clematis. Her hand gripped the metal and she pulled at it, before turning as the entire array of pure white chrysanthemums turned a dark shade of pink, almost dripping with lust. Unsettled, she moved further in, the ground suddenly turning to snow below her shoes. Then, all of a sudden, she realized something. She had been stripped of her cape. Turning, she wondered if she’d dropped it, and moved among the flowers once more, searching for any hint of the black fabric. Unable to find it, she bent down toward the buds, before feeling something stra...